


Raise Me Up

by cricket_aria



Category: Saints Row
Genre: F/M, Wingfic, post-Gat Outta Hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-11 11:38:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20545541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cricket_aria/pseuds/cricket_aria
Summary: By the power given to her as the President of the United States of America the Boss declares that it is a god damned crime that she's the only one to come back from Hell without wings. Johnny's just happy to let her play around with them.





	Raise Me Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FireEye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireEye/gifts).

“This is so fucking unfair,” she said, prodding his back where the wings met his flesh. Or floated slightly above his flesh; Johnny’d never strained around with a mirror like an asshole or gotten grabby with Kinzie like an even bigger asshole to try to work out just what the situation was with the things when they appeared. He figured now the Boss would be able to fill him in on what it looked like if he ever did get curious.

He was on his stomach on her bed to give her a chance to explore, languid and happy after she’d reacted to his delayed return from Hell by dragging him into her room for ‘thank God you didn’t fuck up and die again’ sex. Though his face was turned away from her he could picture her expression perfectly as she prodded away, the disgruntled twist of her lips that’d get anyone who dared to call it a pout kneecapped that she wore whenever she saw anyone with a new weapon she wanted. Well, anyone who she wasn’t willing to just kill and take their shit, which was a pretty fucking short list of individuals that he was glad to be at the top of.

(He was trying not to think too hard about how any list of individuals was a short one now- he hadn’t gotten too twisted up about their little ship being the last remains of humanity before Hell, but it was a bit of a headfuck to know that now Earth just being a pretty memory was 100% on his head for picking the Saints as he knew them over bringing it all back and losing them. Her. Same difference.)

“That’s whatcha get for playing presidentsicle instead of joining in on the fun,” he said, flexing a wing beneath her hand. “You miss out on all the fun toys.”

“No excuses, Gat! I was down there longer than either of you, it’s a goddamned crime—literal crime, President of the United fucking States declaring that right now—that the whole Hell crew other than me gets wings. Even Jezebel!”

“Pretty sure she was born with ‘em,” he said thoughtfully. “Can’t really get upset with her about that.”

She snorted and muttered something that he was pretty sure sounded like ‘Like hell I can’t’ under her breath. It said something about Jez’s freakish level of sweetness that even the Boss herself held back from being too blatantly a jerk toward her. Then she cheerfully added, “You didn’t actually kill her old man though, right? Maybe it isn’t too late to get that marriage off the ground, see if I could get a pair of my own for a wedding present. Can’t say I’d actually _mind_ Jezebel as a wife.”

The wing she was currently fondling beat down to swat at her thigh, and he twisted to glare at her over his shoulder. “_Like hell,_” he growled at her.

(Another thing he tried not to think too hard about was that when he’d had the opportunity to walk right through the pearly gates, the one he knew full well was the only chance a bastard like him would _ever_ get at them, he’d thought of Aisha then chosen the Boss. Even though he knew he couldn’t really expect to have the same type of thing with her, the woman who every living being left--except maybe the vice president--would gladly strip down and do anything for. He couldn’t read too much into the fact that more and more often he was the only one she was hunting down when she wanted to release a little steam, or that he spent so much time in her bed that he had to watch himself closely to keep from thinking of it as ‘theirs’ instead. She had her options, and he was sure eventually he'd be saving himself a world of hurt by being careful to remember that he was only one of them.)

“Of course like Hell, you know who she is,” she said, smirking back, her eyes happy and amused, and he knew he’d been played. She’d been aiming right for that burst of jealousy, and was delighting in it.

He narrowed his eyes at her, wishing he’d kept his shades on so he could just keep hiding his expressions behind them like he did with everyone else. “Too bad for your plan that Satan went and pawned off his halo, huh? You can’t get wings out of him when they’re on my back.”

She pulled her face into an exaggerated grimace, pulling away from him and looking towards the door. “Alright, new plan, you get dressed and I call Kinzie in here instead. I bet if I tied her up and hit her just right she’d be glad to give me hers for it. Bunch of porn with knife shit in it’s been turning up in my phone lately, think she’d been trying to give me a hint in case we ever hook up again. …Or Matt’s trying to pull some shit on her by making me think that. Pretty sure she’d be down with it either way.”

“_Or_,” he grabbed her wrist, pulled her back even though he knew there was no way she was actually planning on making for the door. “Just spittballin’ here, Madam President, but you’ve got a perfectly good set of wings right here. _Try and take ‘em._”

Her eyes were sharp and bright as any knife, her smile as dangerous as a blade, as she practically purred out, “Well, if you _insist,_” then leaned down and bit hard into his shoulder right where one of the wings met the flesh.

“_Fuck_,” he exclaimed, his whole body arching and he wasn’t even sure himself whether he was trying to get away from or get closer to her mouth. “Fucking christ, Boss, I know you were just thinking about her but I’m not goddamned Kinzie! You really think you can chew the things off?”

“Hmmm, I think I’m gonna bet you protest too much,” she said, pressing herself close and wiggling a hand beneath him. And he’d been planning on trying to ignore what it said about him that she was right, and his cock was showing a faint stirring of interest even though he’d have said she’d gotten it well worn-out earlier. “Anyway, just consider that your punishment,” she said, and traced her tongue around the spot she’d bitten then kissed it lightly.

“What, ‘cause I didn’t get back here quick enough for you?”

“Eh, can call that part of the same thing. Punishment for telling me I’ve got to take what’s already mine.” She slid her mouth up to his ear and hissed in a tone that would have made any of her enemies piss themselves with terror but just reminded him of all the times he liked her best. “Every little bit of you is fucking _mine_, Gat, don’t you dare take any part of yourself away from me again.”

(And, yeah, he did try, tried hard, not to be dumb enough to think he had any sort of claim to her heart. Not more of one than any other Saint did, anyway. Tried not to think any stupid thoughts about getting any kind of settled down, like he even deserved to end up with a second woman in his life that he could manage to do that with. But when she did things like glaring at him while making so fierce a claim, a guy's heart couldn't help but flip and little and think... well. )

(Maybe he could be wrong.)


End file.
